


Business or Pleasure

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Business or Pleasure [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Hiddlesbatch - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston RPF, benedict cumberbatch rpf - Fandom
Genre: Auctions, Bachelor Auction, Bromance, Charity Auctions, Comedy, Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mistaken Identity, Multi, Mystery, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke has put Tom up for auction with eleven other of England’s most eligible bachelors, including Tom’s best mate, Benedict, in the interest of raising money for charity. The winner for Tom’s dinner has captured his fancy, and though he was reluctant at first, he’s looking forward to their date. She leaves behind a puzzling mystery behind for the boys to figure out.</p><p>
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</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“How did I let you talk me into this thing?” I muttered urgently under the din of clanking silverware, the high-tech stereo pumping out 80s dance music, the Master of Ceremonies droning on about the next contestant, and the chattering of too drunk party goers.

Smirking into a flute of champagne, my companion stated plainly, “Good for your image, mate. You’ll thank me for it later.”

I scanned a-night-at-the-pub masquerading as an expensive black tie event. Three hundred of England’s richest, poshest and/or known people crammed into the glitzy ballroom of the Ritz Hotel to raise money for charity. The air was thick with opulence, class, and falsity. Most of these people weren’t here for the charity, rather the recognition of providing to the less fortunate than themselves. “Personally, for myself, I’d rather put my £2000 directly into the hands that it would do the most good,” I whispered under my breath, training my face for polite acceptance.

“Your plate was only a £1000.”

 

“Next time, the tailor can have my overpriced plate of lobster with carrot fondant, ginger and lime, that tasted like they fished it from the Thames eight minutes before serving it and he keep his semi-bespoke suit.”

Luke Windsor, surprisingly dressed to the nines for a change, remarked mildly, “Someone replaced your champagne with piss.”

I cringed at his cool and measured delivery before apologizing for being too sorely.

“Lighten up, mate. It’s one night. Smile for the shutterbugs, make a few women swoon, and maintain that accessible image you’ve honed to perfection.”

“Two nights,” I reminded irritably. The overly enthusiastic Stephen Fry as Master of Ceremonies announced eligible bachelor number nine up for auction, my friend Benedict Cumberbatch. He started the bidding at £100, and nearly every female in the room shouted in response. Ben ate up the attention as the auction price soared into the thousands within seconds, toying with the crowd to get them to bid higher. “This events suits him.”

My publicist instructed, “You’re up next. Go, have fun, find your performing monkey routine backstage. Accessibility, that’s what we’re going for.”

I rolled my eyes and submitted one more complaint, “It’s one thing to make me dance and sing in Korea, but quite another to make me date a privileged older woman with-“

Luke protested, “I’m going to stop you right there. Just a dinner date. I’m not asking you to do anything more than have a two hour dinner in exchange for a huge donation to a charity that desperately deserves it.”

“All charities deserve it,” I said as I got to my feet, straightening and buttoning my jacket. “Logic is a good color on you,” conceding to his sensible nature.

“You’re welcome. Now, go,” he pointed backstage. “Cumberbatch is losing momentum.”

Crossing to the backstage area for prompting from a number of volunteer attendants, I waited patiently in the wings for my presentation to the crowd, ignoring the creeping feeling that I was a piece of meat. The minutes ticked by as the final bid for my friend was called at £5600. Stephen doubling as auctioneer introduced me by rambling off my professional credits and some of the awards that I’d been presented. He asked me to join him onstage for exhibition, to a flattering amount of applause.

With my practiced warm smile firmly in place, I waved to the crowd. The collective female response to my entrance pushed a nervous laugh from deep inside, and I felt my foul mood from minutes ago dissipate with my focus back on as entertainer. I shook hands with Stephen and stood straight center stage with my feet shoulder length apart.

My auction, as all the others, was started at one hundred pounds, but quickly shot up to well over a thousand within the space of a New York minute. I couldn’t help but laugh, pondering that I was the boy that used to dance around the living room with a candlestick as a microphone performing for anybody and everybody who would listen. I never thought I’d be set in front of a room full of wealthy women willing to spend their money to have one dinner with me. The absurdity of it married with the complimentary female attention loosened me up, until I too was having fun.

My publicist caught my eye as I scoured the crowd around the stage and mocked a small applause in my direction. I winked in acknowledgement as another flare of ladylike catcalls erupted. The bidding was up to £3000, and was bounced back and forth like a doubles game in tennis between four different women. The brunette in the sleeveless red dress and matching high heels dropped out around £3400, leaving another brunette dressed in purple, a blonde dressed in black and a pink-haired woman also dressed in black.

As each bid went higher, I met the eye of the woman that made it, or tried to as the price climbed. Pinky had a high pitched squeak of a voice and didn’t appear to be losing stamina with her eagerly screamed bids. Purple dress, I assumed, was bidding for a silent participant on her mobile, pausing to confer with that person before speaking up. She fascinated me in her bored delivery of her price, yielding only to pinky before upping the bid by another 200 quid.

The blonde shrugged out after £4200, disappearing into the crowd in the direction of the bar. Though the competition between purple dress and pinky wasn’t fierce, they rallied back and forth until the bid approached the £5000 mark. Pinky was more hesitant in her calls, but purple dress wasn’t backing down in her deadpan formality. I sized each of them up, both gorgeous in their own way.

Purple dress had long flowing brunette hair that shimmered in the lighted ambiance of the ballroom, fell to lazy curls at the ends of the strands. Her eyes were bright and alive, dancing between pinky, Stephen, and then me with an almost dismissive gaze. It was difficult to tell from my vantage point on the stage, but she looked only a few inches shorter than me. She was the classic British beauty with the matching hourglass figure, and she arrested my attention over pinky despite the hair color.

The brunette captivated me with her disinterest and I focused most of my flirting to her, with a guarded smile and attempting to catch her dancing, studying gaze. Pinky tapped out at £5300, leaving the brunette with the heavy sum of £5500 for a date with me that she didn’t seem to want. Shuffling along to make room for the last two contestants, Matt Smith and Sam Claflin, I stepped off the stage.

Heel to toe, heel to toe, I closed the meters between myself and mystery woman that I would be spending my next dinner with. She was flipping through her phone, typing in messages, and generally ignoring everyone in the room including me. “Pardon me,” I said cordially, offering my hand to shake.

“Oh! Excuse me.” She placed her phone aside and stood up from her chair to greet me properly. “Mr. Hiddleston, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Her speech was rushed without a hint of nervousness. She shook my hand firmly with a luminous smile full of straight white teeth. She came from old money and her pronounced speech indicated an expensive education. Taken aback by the admission that she heard so much about me, I smiled. “Tom, please… Pleasure. I wish I could say the same about you, darling.”

“Please call me Lexy, everyone calls me Lexy.”

“Lexy as in Alexandra?” venturing carefully so as not to offend.

“Alexandria,” she corrected gently and briefly turned to her phone as it vibrated on the table, causing more noise than if it rang. The noise of it drowned out by the auction for a dinner with the last Doctor Who going on in the background. “I apologize. Pleasure, Lexy. A thank you is in order for the donation.”

She laughed a twinkling sound and agreed, “Right. Wish I could take credit.”

Confused by her flippancy, I remarked, “You had a bit of a tug of war there at the end.”

“I was meant to get Eddie Redmayne, but he was too rich for-“

“Am I a consolation prize?” I laughed jovially.

Giggling with me, she reached out and touched my arm. “Oh goodness! Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that part. He went for over £6000.”

“Well, after Les Miserables, I think I might have paid that much. I’m flattered that I rated runner up.”

From behind her hand, she mumbled, “Or third.” She dissolved into a full belly laugh, folding at her waist as she blushed furiously. She was charmingly straightforward and honest, and I fancied that.

I joined her in her laughter, watching her cleavage in the tight strapless evening gown, smooth, gorgeously full in the sweetheart neckline that accentuated her shape handsomely. “Lexy, I’ll see that your donation was well worth the price tag, even if I was third place.” I’m not sure what came over me, but I leaned into her and kissed her cheek in a lingering peck.

Maybe it was the competitive spirit of wanting to win her over after she settled for me. Maybe it was trying to charm her as she had me with her candor. It could also be because she glowed with an exuberance that I’d not seen when she was in the heat of battle. She had poise and cunning, a poker face that I wanted to strip away or had come away from the spotlight of the auction.

A perfect combination of all those factors, and she was stunning.

That feather light kiss upon her cheek caused a firestorm in me. Energy and electricity struck like lightening, and I was enchanted.

She calmed and her eyes lingered on mine as I inched away from her again slowly. The intensity of her gaze on mine told me that she felt it too. Softly, she whispered, “Thank you.” For the kiss, for the relieving her of any animosity from being so honest – I’m not sure, but I nodded for her benefit.

Her phone went off again, this time only once, flashing a picture of a smiling baby across the screen, interrupting our moment. Her attention slid from my face to the device on the table. “I should get that. I’m so sorry. Let me get you the address to-“

Her speech was cut off by her phone’s insistence for her attention once more, and she held up her finger to indicate one minute, apologizing again. “Lexy… no, no… I’m here with Mr. Hiddleston now…” I shook my head and mouthed Tom for her to refer to me informally. “Yes… oh, yes…” She swept her eyes over my tailored suit and nodded. “Oh, yes… very nice.” That sneaking suspicion that I was a slab of meat returned, but I enjoyed her approval immensely.

She continued her conversation and then covered the phone’s mouth piece, whispering, “I’m so sorry. This is going to take longer.” She sat down and scribbled on a napkin with a pen from her handbag as she agreed with the caller on her mobile. She handed me the napkin and whispered another apology, excusing herself to go outside to finish her phone call.

I circled the ladies clambering for Sam Claflin and rejoined Luke at our very expensive table. I thrust the napkin before his face and said, “Explain.”

“Happy birthday, mate. It appears you have a date in a fortnight. I’ll spare taking the mickey that you went for less than Ben.”

“This was your idea. I get the address and the time, but what the hell does ‘Melody Smythe’ mean?”

Pushing his eyebrows together, my publicist pointed in the direction the woman had been. “Not Melody?”

“She said her name was Alexandria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast: 
> 
> Tom Hiddleston as Tom Hiddleston  
> Benedict Cumberbatch as Benedict Cumberbatch  
> Luke Windsor as Luke Windsor  
> Lauren Cohen as Alexandria “Lexy”  
> Antje Traue as Melody Smythe  
> Mindy Kahling as Simone


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just met my future second ex-wife,” my best mate announced arrogantly, dropping into the chair beside me, breaking my speculation of the identity and whereabouts of the woman that left me with a cloth napkin stained with blue ink.

Ben drew my attention from the table that the enchanting creature vacated ten minutes ago to take a phone call. The enigmatic napkin, weighted with mystery, scripted with another woman’s name and, I could only assume, another woman’s phone number hung from my fingertips between my knees. I would never get used to women slipping matchbooks, hotel keycards, suggestive or descriptive notes for a lewd rendezvous, but I was quite sure I’d never been solicited for an absentee woman. I certainly hadn’t been passed off for a donation of over £5000, at least not to my knowledge.

“Second?” I asked distractedly, cluing in after a few beats.

Licking his lips, Ben slouched into the gold gilded seat cover with his arm slung over the back. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, his eyes alight with masculine energy born of being surrounded by females and their pheromones. “The woman that had to bow out of my auction when the price tag got too high slipped me her tongue, instead a donation check. I’m in love.”

Sneaking another peek at the table left behind by my puzzling auction winner, I chuckled, “You’re in lust.”

From across the table, Luke tapped his nose knowingly as Ben shrugged.

“So ex-wife number two is auction winner?” I prompted.

A suited waiter stopped at our table to replace our empty flutes of champagne for full ones as the last round of the last round of London’s bachelors was presented for the crowd. Engrossed with my non-date’s empty table, I missed most of the last of the auctions of the night. Seeing a shiny head of hair similar to Lexy’s, I stood to my full height until the woman turned to reveal that she wasn’t the missing in action female whom I was looking for.

Ben examined me with a curious eye as I lowered back into my seat. “You’re as jumpy as a jumpy thing. What’s in your bloody trousers?”

Luke spoke up, “Ben, in the time that you found wife number one and number two. Thomas is convinced he’s met his wife number one.”

I was about to defend myself for my publicist and my best mate, but Ben was already enjoying this information too much. Avoiding Ben taking the mickey, I pressed my lips together in a straight line, practicing my blank face. Lifting his forefinger and pointing in my direction, he exclaimed, “You?! Love at first sight, Tom?” he asked with an edge of sarcasm. “Tell me you’re living up to your image, Prince Charming…” The mocking, sardonic lift of one eyebrow graced Ben’s face, “Hopeless romantic.”

I quipped in response, “You used to be one, Ben.”

The teasing expression slipped noticeably and his gaze narrowed momentarily. An intense strain claimed the atmosphere at the table, until my friend quickly recovered himself. As swift as the mood shifted to uncomfortable and tense, it was gone again. With a hint of diversion and true interest, he inquired, “So what’s her name?”

“Alexandria, Lexy,” I let her name and nickname roll over my tongue, loving the taste of it.

Popping the proverbial balloon of the moment, Luke spoke up, “Or Melody.” The joyful grin lifted his lips, taking immense pleasure in my confusion.

“Alexandria or Melody… Thomas, really… you must get the bird’s name, so you know what to be chanting when she’s got her lips around-”

Cutting him off, I spit out, “Her name is Alexandria!”

“Or Melody,” came from across the table.

Ben smirked before draining his champagne. “So where is this Meloxdry?”

I said, “Lexy.”

Luke wouldn’t let me have the last word, “Melody.”

Scanning the ballroom, the last auction for one Mr. Finnick Odair came to a close with Stephen Fry asking the crowd once more to dig deep in the pockets for whatever they could donate. I scoured the crowd for the brunette with the waist length silky hair, landing on the table I met her. I couldn’t see her amongst the last of the strangling guests. “She was wearing a sleeveless purple gown, her most distinguishing feature was her long hair, and the mobile glued to her hand.”

“Let’s go look for her,” Ben offered easily. He got to his feet and waited for me to lead the way. Pocketing the cream colored napkin puzzle piece inside my suit jacket, I retraced my steps of my path from Lexy to my table. Luke, not wanting to miss any part of the development, followed close behind us.

Lexy’s vacated table showed no evidence that she sat there, her handbag, phone, shawl, or any personal items that she brought with her. The only thing left behind was her wine glass with the outline of her neutral lipstick color along the rim. Three of the earlier auction winners were sitting at the table, talking enthusiastically about the evening. Ben charmingly excused himself for interrupting their discussion, earning welcome smiles and flirtations from the women seated. “Ladies, forgive me, please. I was looking for someone I believe was seated at this table.”

The Daniel Radcliffe winner coquettishly said, “Everyone’s left. We’re the only ones left.”

I indicated where Lexy had been sitting, “Do you happen to know the woman who was sitting at this place setting please?”

“Ms. Motorola? Never put her mobile down- never caught her name.”

I confirmed for Ben, “She did leave to take a call, her incoming messages derailed our conversation.” I smiled for the lovely trio at the table, “Ladies, thank you.”

Their captivated tittering sounded behind us as we stepped away from the table. I walked to the exit that Lexy left to find privacy for her phone call with Ben and Luke in tow. There was no sign of the girl I was seeking or anyone I could ask outside, only the typical London drizzle of rain.

Sensibly, Benedict stopped me from going back into the ballroom by saying, “So this bird won your dinner, yes?”

“Correct.”

“So she’s got money.”

Luke added, “She gave him an address, phone number and a different name on a napkin.”

“A different name? That wasn’t how she introduced herself?” Ben asked. “So she’s got money, but it’s not hers? She… burgled it. Robbing from the rich to give to the poor. She’s maid Marion.”

“Melody.”

Exasperated to the downward trajectory of the exchange, I huffed, “Alexandria.” Shoving a hand through my hair, I said, “Can we think on this without disagreeing on her name?”

Ben nodded, the wheels turning in his head. Luke finally offered reasonably, “I can ask at the registrar to confirm she’s paid. They’re probably not going to tell me how she paid, but it might be another clue.”

Ben told him, “Phrase it so that they give away the form of payment.”

I followed my best mate back into the ballroom while we waited for Luke to confirm that payment was received. He returned a few minutes later to report with the information he was able to manipulate with the cashier. “I used my publicist clout to get some of the payment details. The auction was paid in full with an additional £500, for a donation of £6000 with a check made out to the charity.”

“Did you ask who issued the check?”

Luke leveled his gaze on me, at my eager response. “As unlikely they are to give out the particulars, I saw the computer screen. You have a dinner with Melody Smythe.”

“Not Alexandria?”

“This Melody’s a good girl.”

“You don’t even know her!”

Smoothly, Luke smirked, “I know she paid for the auction with a very generous donation.”

Benedict chimed in, “So we can assume that Alex and Melody aren’t the same woman? Can we find you a different one altogether to avoid any further confusions?”

Losing the last shreds of my patience, I asked, “Are you two conspiring to drive me mad tonight?”

Ben shrugged with a smirk, “That depends, darling. Is it working?”

Luke reasoned to the core of the issue, “Why this woman, Tom? “

Ben chimed in, “Why not this woman?”

I threw my head back to stare at the ceiling, seeking strength to deal with these two or a higher being to strike them both down before I snapped. I’m not usually an impatient man; however this event was an extravagance in frivolity that I felt was a misuse of funds to raise more, the original investment thrown away on opulence. In the brief minutes I was in Alexandria’s presence, I sensed the same attitude in her. I was intrigued enough to want to learn more about her.

Paying Ben a moment’s heed to roll my eyes in his direction, I bought a second to collect my motivation for finding this woman. Remembering her soulful blue eyes set on a youthful face, I laughed mirthlessly, “Did you- have you- I’m not sure I can- have-” I explained brokenly in the midst of a brain freeze. “She was- honest and she didn’t seem at all interested in me-”

Ben scoffed his auction sum, hiding the sound within a cough, rubbing my nose in the fact that he drew more money than my auction had.

Ignoring the snarky snide comment, I continued, “…Until her phone call. I felt connected to her, and perhaps it was one sided… The challenge to charm her won me over. I want that shot, to engage her in something, anything. She was disconnected with this event, mirrored my own attitude for it… fascinated with the idea of what she will find interesting and worthy of her undivided attention.”

“Oh, Thomas, I may weep,” Ben mocked, wiping an invisible tear.

“You’re a right arse.”

Luke using teacher voice said, “Let’s try to find your girl.”

“When she turns up interested in nymphomania, give her my mobile.”

I shot Ben a withering look, I focused on Luke’s inclination, “Lexy was an assistant, maybe?”

“At least someone she trusted with a donation of £5000, an assistant, a sister, a friend… a wife?” my assistant teased mercilessly.

“Why would she be donating on a date with me?”

“A true charitable case!” Luke joked.

I couldn’t help myself and laughed with him. “If I’m not being shamed for only roping in five and half, but you’re taking the piss for the state of my love life… or lack of.”

My best friend spoke up, “I can help you out there, darling. In one night I found two ex-wives. You can have them when I’m done.”

“Lovely. Your sloppy seconds…”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

I watched Luke pull out his mobile and type away, his fingers flying over the display, intent on his screen. He would type, scroll, type, scroll again, and repeat it all again. Ben turned to Luke as well to watch his pattern. After a few minutes, noticing the silence between Ben and me, Luke snuck a peak at us. He chuckled softly, “Researching. I’ve got several leads that I can follow up on to find your girl… or your other girl.”

“Did you find Alexandria? Do you think you can find her?”

“There are quite a few Alexandria Smythes in London, but I need my laptop to really search it up. I was also checking up on Melody Smythe. I have a few options there; she’ll be easier to find.”

“Thank you, Luke. I owe you a raise.”

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“Give me the weekend, and we’ll meet up on Sunday night.”

Ben exclaimed, “I’m there!”

I shook my head at him, he nodding back at me at the same time. “Ben, no.”

“Tom, yes! I can help!”

Pocketing his iPhone, Luke rose to his feet. “I’ll meet you both for dinner at Carluccio’s in Convent Garden, Sunday, at six. Ben may be of some use, if we want to find your girl.”

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast: 
> 
> Tom Hiddleston as Tom Hiddleston  
> Benedict Cumberbatch as Benedict Cumberbatch  
> Luke Windsor as Luke Windsor  
> Lauren Cohen as Alexandria “Lexy”  
> Antje Traue as Melody Smythe  
> Mindy Kahling as Simone


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Business or Pleasure - Chapter 3**

My feet hit the pavement in a rapid constant beat, chasing the memory of Lexy through Regent’s Park the next morning. The heavy grey all too familiar grey clouds above my head matched my confusion over the identity of the woman I met and the script on a burgled napkin from The Ritz. I did my best thinking in my favorite, broken-in pair trainers letting my feet carry me on a journey while my mind was free to wander every possibility.

I allowed myself the five miles in 40 minutes to consider the identity of Alexandria and her relationship to my date, Melody Smythe, another identity I didn’t know. What if they weren’t related? What if they were? What if they were co-workers? No matter the situation it was an awkward set of circumstances I found myself in.

Adjusting my headphones and turning up the volume on Daft Punk, I met my half way mark on my run and turned back towards my flat. I wanted a date with Lexy, but that seemed not to be the case. I wondered what Melody could be like, and if she was anything like Lexy. Why hadn’t she been at the auction to claim me herself? I remembered, then, that I wasn’t Lexy’s first choice… or maybe I wasn’t Melody’s first choice.

Who were they to each other? What was their relationship?

Sisters would be uncomfortable.

Employer to employee would be equally as uncomfortable.

Aunt and niece would prove to me just as daunting as sisters.

Best friends?

All of it seemed infinitely bad no matter which way I spun it in my head.

I was turning the last curve in the track through the park when I nearly ran over two women jogging. I swerved at the last possible moment, avoiding the calamity of hurt arms and legs and bums. I pulled my ball cap down, shielding my face from being recognizable, just in case they were the type to know me. I apologized profusely, and continued on my path before I could be stopped for a chat.

I was on a strict schedule this morning of running, showering, getting to the theatre for another workout and warmup before two performances of Coriolanus. I fancied back to back portrayals of this character to escape this obsessing on one woman with gorgeous waist length hair, an infectious laugh, brutal honesty, and a smile that lit up the stuffy atmosphere of the Ritz.

*

Ben was the last to arrive at Carluccio’s the following night for dinner. The waiter showed us to a table in the corner towards the back on the other side of the bar to give us some privacy. My best mate was coming off a massive year in his career as was I and we were easily recognized out and about in London.

“Are you sure you want to know what I’ve found?” Luke asked, pulling his ever present iPad out to consult with information he gathered in the past two days.

Enthusiastically with a sure nod, I spoke clearly, “Absolutely.”

Ben gave me the once over before Luke could present us with his findings. “You’ve surprised me, Thomas. I thought the fixation on this bird would’ve worn off by now, no?”

“It may be whimsical and fantasy, but this woman was… electric. I can’t explain it.”

Simply, Ben stated, “Try.”

I leveled my gaze on him, weighing up how much to divulge without sending him into a tailspin of denial. Ben was coming off a rather short and passionate love affair after a wonderful long term relationship, both had hurt him awfully in different ways. There’d been long nights of drinking and crying and complaining and unloading after the demise and conclusion of both. “Something happened in the last year or so of my career that made me start looking ahead. I did some work on the Muppets movie, and I did that voiceover for that Disney movie… I want the wife and the kids waiting for me when I get home from a long day on set.”

Ben looked down at his clasped hands, flexing harder, his knuckles whitening under the added pressure. That was his deepest wish and something he wanted more than I. His biggest regret was not having children yet. He was silent for a long time, and Luke respectfully kept the business of what brought us together out of the conversation. Sighing heavily, my friend regained his mask of silly arrogance and said, “We’ll find your bird, even if we have to ride the underground all day with hopes of finding her.”

The waiter came over took our drink and dinner orders before leaving us to our conversation again. Swiping the screen open to one of his files, Luke said, cutting to the chase, “I was able to put a face to the name of Melody Smythe.” He turned the screen to show both Ben and me the picture of a lovely brunette woman in an obvious employee roster photograph. “I pulled it from her company’s website.”

A youthful diamond shaped face with almond shaped blue eyes surrounded by lush eyelashes stared back at us across the table. Melody had the pale brunette English complexion topped with straight shoulder length layered hair and complimented with a less than British nose.

Slightly disappointed, I stated, “That’s not Lexy.”

I was stunned when Ben didn’t announce wife number four or seven, whatever he was up to now. He reached across the table to take the iPad from my publicist. He studied the likeness of the new female in the equation of our puzzle. I looked over Ben’s shoulder, searching the photo for a likeness to the woman I’d met. Finding none, my hopes dropped like a stone in a pond.

Ben was delayed for defending the girl, “No, that’s Me-lo-dy, wife number three.”

Ah, there is was! His voice though was hollow without his egotistical ring to it, forcing his customary response to a beautiful woman.

Pretending he hadn’t heard either one of us, Luke toggled to another file on his iPad after taking it from Ben’s hands. “Melody Flora Smythe was born to Corey and Naomi Smythe on the eighteenth of October… she’s… uh…” Luke looked up, calculating her age, “thirty, yes, just turned thirty. She attended the London School of Business, graduated the top fifteenth of her class, works for Selfridges. She is Marketing Director, and was in Milan last week for a fashion show. She had a weekend sojourn to Switzerland to pick up some Swiss chocolate yesterday.”

“You found all that on her employee profile?” I asked incredulously.

Luke leveled his eyes on me from the information he read and answered seriously, “No, her Facebook.”

Ben commented, “Her profile is public. Can I friend her?”

My publicist remarked, “She was extraordinarily easy to find, once I knew about her form of payment.”

“She missed the auction because she was Milan and Switzerland. I fancy her already,” Ben said, sinking down in his chair comfortably.

Holding onto hope, I asked, “So does Melody have any sisters?”

Luke shook his head and read more from the display, “No, only child- grew up in Mayfair. I checked her cousins and friends through her Facebook profile, but couldn’t find an Alexandria, Alexandra, Alex, Lexy or Lex.”

Ben asked, “What’s her interest in the auction? Was it the charity?”

My publicist half-shrugged, “She still lives in Mayfair, but seems to be very generous with her money. She donates to various charities. But-“

I cut him off, doubtfully inquiring, “Facebook?”

“Twitter. However I suspect the auction had more to do with the talent. She’s a big movie fan.”

The waiter stopped at our table to serve our dinner order, halting our conversation briefly. Ben was more than chuffed to add another bottle of white wine to the growing tab that I agreed to pay. Between the three orders of Affogato for pudding once we finished dinner, the bill grew by another fifty quid. When the server cleared out again, we resumed our conversation.

Wishing to get to the next part, I asked, “So where does that leave us? How is this finding the woman I’m actually looking for?”

Luke shook his head and shrugged again, “I researched Melody Smythe-“

Ben added, “The woman you’re actually dating.” Was there a hint of jealousy in his statement?

I shifted my eyes in his direction and then back to Luke. Luke continued, ignoring my best mate, “I looked up Alexandria Smythe, but she’s not a sister or immediate family, so I gave up tracking that way. If she’s family or close friend, she’s not on Facebook or has a different surname.

“Lexy’s married!”

I glared at my best friend and objected immediately, “She wasn’t wearing a wedding band or engagement ring.”

“Oh, Darling, you really were struck by this woman. You already checked her ring finger.”

The three of us were interrupted again by the waiter serving our wine and desserts. I took a deep pull of my wine in hopes that I could calm the small spot of panic in the back of my head. London was a big city and Lexy was only one person amongst millions. I couldn’t ask Luke to look up every Alexandria in a population of eight million. My only lead was Melody, but couldn’t pursue a date with another woman while I was out with Melody.

When the waiter slipped away, I asked, “Luke, can you check the number on the napkin to Melody’s?”

He nodded, swallowing a mouthful of liquored vanilla ice cream, tapping at the iPad he put aside to wake it again. I could feel him watching me closely as I took my iPhone out and showed him the picture I’d taken of the stolen Ritz napkin. He compared the number to the information he collected about my date. Slurping down the dessert, he pointed to my mobile and said, “That’s it!”

Ben piped up, “A new lead to chase.” He clapped me on the back encouragingly.

Luke furrowed his brow darkly, “That leads back to Melody.”

Despite the information matching, I felt a bit of hope that we might be closing in on the thread that connected the woman we knew and the mystery. “Luke, can you check the company directory for Selfridges?”

My publicist loaded the Selfridges office directory on his iPad, presumably how he located and found out who Melody was. After a few minutes of reviewing and scrolling and a few mouthfuls of ice cream, he stated, “It only gives me upper management, CEOs and directors and such. There’s an Alexander, that’s the closest-“

“Sex change!” Ben announced with a slap on the table, the silver clanging against the dishes.

I laughed at the exclamation, grateful for the smile to break up how seriously I was taking this search. “Oh, no, Lexy was all woman, nothing artificial about those breasts.”

Shocked Ben gaped at me for admitting something like that to him. Leering at me and leaning closer into the table, he ordered, “Tell me more.”

“If we find her, you can see for yourself.”

Ben turned to my publicist, “We have to find Tom’s bird!”

Disputing the before he had a chance to say it, I insisted strongly, “She is not wife number nine for you. If we find this woman, she’s all mine.”

“Spoilsport.”

Luke rolled his eyes and stowed his iPad away once more as we finished our meal. Cautiously, he offered as we were getting up to leave, “I have some ideas to try to find her.” Luke hated puzzles and mysteries, always searching out a solution to any problem. I certainly managed to snag his curiosity with this hunt for a woman.

“I’m glad you’re onboard, because I have a few suggestions myself.”

Ben, wanting to stay in the middle of things, said, “I’ll help!”

I slapped Ben on the back as we stepped out onto the street, into the early winter night in London. The air was crisp, brisk, and chilled, dropping a few degrees since we entered the restaurant. Pulling my jacket in tighter, I presented my scenario, “Luke, do you think you can call Selfridges tomorrow with some kind of business to do with the auction?”

“I thought of that. I’ll see what I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast: 
> 
> Tom Hiddleston as Tom Hiddleston  
> Benedict Cumberbatch as Benedict Cumberbatch  
> Luke Windsor as Luke Windsor  
> Lauren Cohen as Alexandria “Lexy”  
> Antje Traue as Melody Smythe  
> Mindy Kahling as Simone


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Business or Pleasure - Ch 4**

“Tom, mate, I’ve got some contracts for you to look over and I need to go over your schedule for next week,” Luke’s voice spoke through my mobile, sounding like a mechanical version of my publicist.

“You’re out of breath,” I commented over a laugh.

“I’ve got a thing,” an irritated growl followed. “When did they let so many people into London?” The exasperation I recognized from our many appearances together when he attempted to keep me on point, though it never worked in his favor.

“Christmas is close. I think they swim in,” I joked, putting a smile on the overworked man.

“Look,” Luke stated authoritatively. “Meet me at Barley Mow round four. We’ll have dinner, you’re buying. Invite Ben, I might have news.”

Hope crept over me, a small trickle down my spine, the memory of Lexy’s smile flashing through my head. “Did you find her? Did you find Lexy?”

“Not yet, but there’s news.”

Could I dare to hope that we might be closing the gap to find the woman that captured so much of my attention Friday night? After discovering that my date from the auction wasn’t the woman that bid, I couldn’t hide my disappointment. Melody, by the looks of her on Luke’s iPad, looked sweet enough and established enough to be her own person, lovely, successful, someone worth a second glance. But she wasn’t the woman with my fancy, the one that charmed me within mere moments. I had to find Lexy to know if she was everything my mind conjured from the small interaction.

Fully committing to dinner, I said, “I’ll be there.” Any word or advancement towards finding her was an improvement. The trail to her might grow cold with the longer it took to find her. Something deep in my gut told me that I needed to find this woman. The reason didn’t matter, I had to find her.

I arrived at the typical London pub right at the agreed upon time only to greet my publicist right outside, but Ben nowhere in sight. We were seated towards the back for privacy and an extra chair for Ben when he showed. Luke and I went over the paperwork he had for me, to get business out of the way and enjoy our meal.

The overly peppy, overly anxious, exuding far too much enthusiasm for a Monday evening waitress paid us extra attention, nearly landing on my lap three times. It could’ve been the eighteenth hair flip or the twentieth lingering gaze I caught that convinced me that she recognized me… definitely by the fourth bowl of crisps that we hadn’t ordered appeared at our table.

Ben stumbled in just as we were ordering food, after Luke and I finished the schedules for interviews, photo shoots and appearances. After orders were taken and beers placed before us, I finally inquired about what Luke had discovered from his call to Melody’s office. “How did it go?”

“I consider myself a sharp man,” Luke prefaced. He paused for Ben and I to agree, which we did. “But I realized after that phone call that I may not be as smart as I believe myself to be.”

Ben lifted his pint, “We rarely are.”

Luke laughed to himself, “I’m not made for the subversive. I’m too straightforward, too honest. Knowing that, I made myself a script to follow before calling.”

“Someone knocked you off book?” I asked with a laugh of my own.

“So fast my head spun and I landed on my arse.”

_“Hello, Beautiful. Thank you for calling Selfridges, London. Melody Smythe’s office. How may I help?” The well-rehearsed, well spoken, well-paced voice recited._

_“Good afternoon,” the man on a mission read hesitantly from my bullet pointed cheat sheet. “May I speak with Alexandria?”_

My publicist shook his head, gesturing with the confusion he felt reliving the phone call. “A very pregnant pause followed, so long I thought we’d been disconnected. I looked at the screen and the second counter of the call still counted upwards.”

_“Uh, hello? Did I lose you?”_

_The receptionist said, “Uh, no. I’m here.”_

_“Oh, are you Alexandria?” Luke tried again._

_“No, I’m afraid not. There’s no Lexy here. May I help you?”_

_“Forgive me, please. I’m looking for an Alexandria.”_

Luke recalled with a scoff, “The line went dead quiet again. I couldn’t figure it. I decided a different approach, since the call was still connected.” He waved his phone in his hand, indicating that he checked the timer again.

_Hesitantly the man grasped at anything to cover some ground. “May I speak with Melody Smythe?”_

_“I’m sorry, sir, she’s in a meeting.” The response seemed a little too quick and too much like a standard response to all callers, a human call screener. “May I ask to whom I’m speaking?”_

_“I’m called Windsor, Luke Windsor, Director of Public Eye. I needed to follow up with Melody about some very confidential-”_

_“Public Eye…” She mused out loud, “Public Eye…” Suspiciously the voice asked, “Is there a problem?”_

_“Oh, no, no, no. No problem,” Luke coddled, soothing the situation before it got any further out of control. “I have some security concerns that I really must discuss with Ms. Smythe. Would you-”_

_Interrupting in a rush of words, “I’m Melody’s assistant, Simone Grainger. I’m authorized to respond to anything on her behalf. I can assure you that Melody is 100% trustworthy and confidential in all her business affairs. In her position as director, she has to be. I’m sure you understand.”_

Luke’s eyes were bugged out of his head with the shock of how the conversation descended. “I fancy myself a calm bloke, but this woman spoke in such a rush, throwing as much information she could fit in a mouthful… It only seemed to get quicker.”

Benedict was sitting forward in his seat, elbows upon the table, hanging on Luke’s every word. He swallowed down half his pint in one gulp, his eyes never leaving the man with the story.

I’d already picked up on a clue that Luke obviously missed at the time, over his head and out of his league with making a call on the sly. I bit my tongue and withheld my laughing until he finished the story about the phone call.

“This- Simone- this assistant- she was on the defensive by pretending that she was on the offensive. The unexpected rush threw me. To get back to my bullet points, I asked to set up a call with Melody.”

           _“Ms. Grainger, please, may- can-”_

_“OH! You’re calling about the auction! Now, I understand. I’m so sorry,” her voice softened as she worked out what was going on. “What can I do for you, Mr. Windsor? Was there a problem with the payment?”_

_“Forgive me. I needed to speak with Melody, if at all possible.”_

“After that it was a lot of back and forth, but she completely threw me off my purpose for calling. I was so thrown that I missed two things,” Luke concluded, laughing at his error again.

“She referred to Alexandria as Lexy,” I pointed out immediately. For me, that was the point of phone call, tracking down the woman I met at the auction. That familiar thrill of hope shoot down my spine that we were one step closer.

“How could she possibly know that you were calling about the auction?” Ben asked, picking up the other point in the conversation that gave Simone away. “She knows something.”

“The point is, Tom, I don’t know where Lexy is or how she’s connected to all of this, but Simone is the link,” sensible publicist was back in full command. “She may have thrown me off, but I’m on to her now.”

Despite the problems and the slight delay in response, I slapped Luke on the back. “Well done! Thank you, man.”

Ben contemplated all the information we’d hashed out over our meal, then looked at his watch. “You know, it’s after five now. Selfridges is within walking distance. We could go have a talk with Simone.”

Luke was quick to dispute that, “We don’t know what Simone looks like. She’s Melody’s assistant, but not a high enough title to have her picture in the directory.”

“Details… we could ask around or call her again,” Ben brushed off. “We know what Melody looks like. We could go meet her.” There was a hint of hope in his tone.

“We should probably let it go for now,” my publicist advised.

Ben questioned me, “Tom, don’t you want to meet your date?”

Cackling into my pint of beer, I suggested, “I think you’d like to meet my date. Wife number seven… eight… was it?”

At first, that was the end of it. We agreed to put it aside for the moment, and we would figure out another way to handle getting to Lexy through Simone. Luke would make another phone call, but for now, we were one step closer.

It was the prudent and wisest way to handle the situation, except then we ordered another round. And then another. And one more for the road.

After paying another exorbitant bill for another meal, I fell out of the pub with my two best friends in tow, heading in the direction of Oxford Street, the home of Selfridges. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast: 
> 
> Tom Hiddleston as Tom Hiddleston  
> Benedict Cumberbatch as Benedict Cumberbatch  
> Luke Windsor as Luke Windsor  
> Lauren Cohen as Alexandria “Lexy”  
> Antje Traue as Melody Smythe  
> Mindy Kahling as Simone


End file.
